


Please, Take Me

by sobermeup



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Finally, He’s gonna stay small, M/M, Oh look the rating went up, Omega Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, Updating tags as I go, clintasha is mentioned, they came off, underpants man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-02-10 23:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobermeup/pseuds/sobermeup
Summary: If Bucky has to describe Steve’s scent using words that would be logical when speaking to the sense of smell, he’d say things like spring, floral, or meadow. The distinctness of certain smells in Steve’s scent is weaker than it is for other people. The doctors say it’s because of Steve’s underdeveloped body, because of the sicknesses he has been riddled with during puberty.And yet, despite Steve’s anxiety and distaste of his smell, Bucky can’t seem to find something to dislike about his scent. He smells... happy. It also seems that Bucky can’t find the proper olfactory words to describe Steve’s scent. He can’t help but associate emotions with Steve, his scent, and his pretty body.





	1. What Am I Supposed To Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LightningStriking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningStriking/gifts).



> this was inspired by You Are Scent-sational by LightningStriking, go read it, it’s better 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908764/chapters/26907465
> 
> Title and chapter titles come from Sleep by Timothy Heller

Sunlight streams through the window and warms Bucky’s skin. He can’t help but lean his nose towards the pillow he lays on, and smell the sweet aroma that is his best friend’s scent. Bucky could describe Steve’s scent as nothing other than home. Being friends with the tiny, sickly omega for thirteen years has trained Bucky’s nose to find the scent in a subway train full of people, to know Steve’s emotion from the slightest change in his scent, to find comfort in the bright, cheery smell that is Steve. If Bucky has to describe Steve’s scent using words that would be logical when speaking to the sense of smell, he’d say things like spring, floral, or meadow. The distinctness of certain smells in Steve’s scent is weaker than it is for other people. The doctors say it’s because of Steve’s underdeveloped body, because of the sicknesses he has been riddled with during puberty.

And yet, despite Steve’s anxiety and distaste of his smell, Bucky can’t seem to find something to dislike about his scent. He smells... happy. It also seems that Bucky can’t find the proper olfactory words to describe Steve’s scent. He can’t help but associate emotions with Steve, his scent, and his pretty body. Steve himself is the paragon of Submissive Omega, at least visually. His temper regarding injustices does not reflect his designation. Yet, again, Bucky only falls deeper in love with him for this. He squeezes his eyes closed and breaths deeply. He doesn’t have opportunity to indulge in Steve’s scent very often.

He lays, tangled in Steve’s sheets, instead of Steve’s arms and legs. The sun streaming through the curtains is like an unwelcome guest, telling him that he must leave soon. His mother will be expecting him back eventually, but he never wants to leave. As he lay, eyes raking over the art that is Steve’s sleeping form, he sighs. There is a longing in his chest for Steve, his Omega. But not his... Steve does not belong to him.

Steve begins to stir as Bucky turns over, onto his back. Bucky knows that the groan that comes out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t make his blood rush the way it does, but he cannot help it. The blond often makes noises and doesn’t realize the consequence of them. They make Bucky’s mind fill with sinful thoughts about making Steve feel the electricity that runs down his spine whenever Steve touches him. His friend rolls over to face him, mirroring the position they had just been in a few moments ago, just with the positions reversed. Bucky turns his head a little to look at his bleary eyed best friend.

“Mornin’ Buck’...” Steve slurs, a gentle smile on his face. What can Bucky’s heart do but surge at the sweetness that oozes from that phrase. Steve’s face is full of innocence and purity. Bucky scolds himself as he thinks about ruining both of those things. If only Steve were into men. Bucky forces a smile on his face, partway a painful pretending, partway a genuine grin of gratitude. Bucky thanks the gods every time Steve smiles at him.

“Morning, Stevie. I thought you’d never wake up. I was sure some handsome prince was gonna come by and kiss sleeping beauty awake. Who’s the witch that cursed you? I’ll fight her for ya.” Bucky sits up, a grin taking over the fake smile he put on his face. Steve chuckles sleepily. He rubs his eyes blearily and looks up at Bucky.

“It may not be a magical, dragon shapeshifting witch, but Ms. Hill can sure be a real bi-“ Bucky covers Steve’s mouth, a scandalized gasp escaping his own.

“Steven Alexander Timothy Rodgers. Do not curse in your own home! Your mother would be ashamed.” Bucky only pulls his hand away when Steve licks it. Bucky groans in disgust.

“Not my middle name, and you know you have a dirtier mouth than I do.” Steve huffs he shoves at Bucky with a foot as the brunet bites his tongue, holding back jokes and comments that would reveal far too much. He punches Steve’s leg in return for the shove, and Steve dares to laugh at his “assault.” Bucky gasps yet again.

“Steve, I’ll actually punch you, and you’ll regret laughing at my mercy.” Bucky threatens, raising a fist. This only makes Steve laugh harder, and they both remember the many times that the same fist Bucky raises in malice has been raised against others who Steve picked fights with. Then the same hand picked Steve up and patched up his cuts, put ice on his bruises, fluttered over his skin until he was sure Steve was alright.

“Do it, Buck. Actually punch me.” Steve sits up, the challenge making his eyes sparkle. Bucky gets lost for a moment, wandering in the ocean of Steve’s baby blues. He clears his throat and lowers his fist.

“Nah, I’d rather your lovely mother use her spatula to flip her glorious pancakes than to beat me, so...” Bucky shrugs, his lips pulling onto a smirk as Steve howls with laughter. After his cackling dies down they gradually get into a discussion about the project they finished last night, at nearly two in the morning. Bucky softly agrees with Steve’s earlier sentiment of Ms. Hill being a bitch, and Steve chuckles some more. Their discussion of genetics and the outrage that a project over the weekend causes is interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“Boys? Breakfast is almost ready, and I assume by Steven’s cackling, you’re up.” Sarah Rodgers, a saint, if Bucky has ever met one, softly calls through Steve’s door. Bucky cackles as he watches Steve turn bright red. He hears Sarah’s gentle chuckle, and he stands from the bed. He pulls on a shirt and snorts as he watches Steve pull his comforter over his face.

Bucky doesn’t wait for Steve, as per usual, he makes his way downstairs. He’s been friends with Steve for so long that Sarah is just another part of Bucky’s family. She treats him like he’s her boy, and he calls her Ma sometimes. She truly is an angel, but Bucky believes she might suspect his longing for Steve. She always has that knowing glint in her eye, and Bucky cannot tell if it is a motherly glint, or if she can sense the admiration and love he has for Steve.

“Good morning, James.” She says cheerily, setting a plate down for him on the small kitchen table. Bucky won’t deny that Steve’s house is smaller than his own. He won’t deny that his own parents have salaries that probably double Sarah’s. He also won’t deny that his Christmas presents for Steve and Sarah are lavish because he wants to be good to them. But he always has and always will cherish the small presents Steve gives him. The value of Steve’s presents is more than the money he spends.

“Good morning, Ma.” She and Bucky are long past the time when they have a discourse about what Bucky calls her. He varies between Ma and her first name. She doesn’t mind with either.

“Did you and Steve finish your biology project?” She asks, and Bucky nods, unable to speak through the food in his mouth. She smiles brightly at him, walking closer as she brings over glasses of milk.

“Thank you for breakfast.” Bucky says, mouth finally free from the delicious food. Sarah chuckles and ruffles his hair after she sets down the glasses.

“Anytime, Bucky. You know that.” 


	2. Please Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve smells like Bucky, he wants to smell Bucky alllllll the time

Fingers grip soft cotton cloth, legs are wrapped around the duvet that has been messed by two bodies instead of one. Steve brings Bucky’s sweatshirt back up to his face and smells deeply. He grins, the smell of old books and paper washing over him. If he buries his nose far enough in the sweatshirt he can smell the faint scent of vanilla that Steve only smells when Bucky starts talking about his latest conquest. 

Steve had texted Bucky earlier, and to Steve’s delight Bucky had said he could keep the sweatshirt. Bucky told Steve it wasn’t one of his favorites and he had more than enough. Steve stopped paying attention when Bucky started ranted about his own failing health, and the importance of keeping warm, and healthy, and blah, blah, blah... Steve was just glad he could indulge in Bucky without fear of embarrassment. He often longed for the opportunity to bury his face in his alpha friend’s neck, and just exist in only Bucky’s scent. 

He flushed from the neck up when he thought of the opportunity he had because of this sweatshirt. He could smell like Bucky had claimed him... He could sinfully indulge himself in Bucky’s scent... He could rub his own scent all over it and return it anyway.... No, surely not the last one, he wants to keep this part of Bucky if he can have no other. He has been keeping pieces of Bucky, and their friendship as if to make a patchwork quilt of his despair and longing. He has his ticket from Coney Island... a straw wrapper from Ma And Pa’s Diner... a card Bucky made for him to apologize for something... an origami swan that Bucky made... he keeps the same pillowcase for Bucky each time he sleeps over... now he has his sweatshirt, and surely there are more things he’s forgetting about. 

His obsession with his best friend is creepy. He doesn’t deny this. But, how could he not be in love with the man? He’s practically perfect. Sure, he’s into women, and he’s a little abrasive when it comes to jokes sometimes, but Steve still loves him. There are way more good things about him. He, physically is a god, and Steve could go on for hours about his smile, his hair, his eyes... but Ma always says what matters most is what’s on the inside, and with Bucky it’s no different. Ever since they met Bucky has taken care of Steve. Ma knows that if she has to work and Steve is sick she can call Bucky and he’ll take care of him. He picks him up when he gets beaten down, physically and metaphorically. He’s the best... he’s Steve’s best guy. 

Steve finishes off his Sunday in Bucky’s sweatshirt, complaining to the group chat about his procrastination for Current Events. Almost all agree with his sentiment. Bucky, though, scolds him for not doing his work. Steve laughs quietly as the group gangs up on Bucky for scolding Steve. They all eventually start sending goodnight texts, and when only Bucky and Steve haven’t said goodnight they move to a private chat. Eventually Steve falls asleep, homework just barely finished, phone plugged in at the last second, a miracle he remembered either in between responding to Bucky. 

The next morning Steve is passionately singing along to, ‘I Will Survive’ by Gloria Gaynor. It’s a favorite of his and he alternates between gesturing wildly as the drummer then as the guitarist as he sings. He slides his backpack on and sings to his mom as he passes her. Then he does the unthinkable during a jam session, something he wouldn’t even do for Bucky, he does for his ma. He pauses his music. 

“What?” He asks, his lungs trying to catch up with his excitement, but not too far to where he needs his inhaler. He’s learned how to balance his passion for music with his need for air. She chuckles at him and hands him a lunch bag. 

“I love you, babe.” She kisses the top of his head, and her sweet lilac scent makes Steve smile. When he was younger, and continuously sick, her scent would fill his room and bring a smile to his face. His protector, his nurse, his caretaker... She sends him on his way. She has always been there for him. He hugs her and softly thanks her for the lunch. 

“Love you too, Ma!” He yells as he runs out the door. He dearly loves his mother, but he also loves Bucky and he wants to see Bucky’s expression when he realizes Steve smells like him. He’d changed his shirt this morning and pulled Bucky’s sweatshirt back onto his body, and just before coming downstairs he’d thrown the garment back onto his bed. He’d wanted to see if Bucky would react at all to him smelling like the Alpha. Steve hurries out to the car, forgetting all about his jam session when he sees Bucky pulling his hair back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. Natasha’s influence on Bucky is nothing if it isn’t strong. It had been at a party when it was first suggested he put his hair up. Steve uses the word ‘party’ liberally. It’s more of a gathering of their group of friends to eat pizza, drink gallons upon gallons of soda, watch shitty movies, and play cliché games. Natasha had braided Wanda’s hair earlier in the night, and there had been several Mean Girls jokes, hair being pushed back and all. Bucky has this habit of pushing his hair back out of his face, and so the jokes inevitably fell onto him. Steve fondly remembers Wade crooning, “You look sexy with your hair pushed back!” Natasha had idly offered to put Bucky’s hair into a bun when he started complaining about it being in his face. Steve had never needed something more than he needed Bucky with his hair up in a bun in that moment. Wade had yelled until Bucky finally agreed, letting Natasha do as she pleased to his hair. He’d whined through the whole process, saying that Nat was pulling or was jerking him around. She’d somehow managed to get it done even with his whining and wiggling. The outcome had been even better than Steve expected.

Steve’s mouth goes dry as he watches Bucky grip the back of his neck, feeling for any stray hairs. Oh, how Steve longs for Bucky to put his hands on his own neck in that way. Stumbling, Steve finally manages to get himself safely into Bucky’s passenger seat. 

“Morning’ Steve,” Bucky turns and smiles at Steve. He turns to look at his best friend, and with great satisfaction he finds the reaction he was so desperately hoping for. Bucky’s mouth is hanging slightly open, his eyes wide, and his cheeks flushed. Steve turns to get his seat belt, not wanting his triumphant smirk to give him away. He locks his seatbelt into place, still not wanting to look at Bucky. 

“It sure is, Buck.” Steve and Bucky have been riding to school together since middle school. Every school morning Bucky would greet Steve with a declaration of what time of day it was, and Steve would affirm said declaration. It was a routine they strictly followed, even now, as high schoolers. It’s little things like their daily greetings that make Steve fall deeper and deeper in love with Bucky. He cares about Steve, whether or not (most likely not), that it’s the care you show someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, or the care you show your best friend of many years, Steve doesn’t mind. He just likes to know Bucky cares. 

“You did actually get your homework done for Current Events, right?” Bucky safely pulls onto the street, beginning their descent into hell… or, er, the drive to school. Steve chuckles, and looks over at his best friend. The light shining through the window illuminates Bucky’s face and gives him an angelic glow. It makes Steve’s weak, little heart beat faster. 

“Yeah, Buck’. Somehow I managed to keep you entertained and do my homework. I know, I know,” Steve says in a faux-arrogant voice, “I’m the best, you don’t have to tell me. I know.” Steve shouts in surprise as Bucky slaps his chest, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Shut up, you nerd.” Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. Steve can’t help the proud smile that lingers on his face as they continue to chat. He doesn’t like getting out of the car in the mornings because he has to go three periods without seeing Bucky. It’s torture. On the other hand, he does like going and talking to the few people of their friend group who get to school early like Steve and Bucky. Usually it’s just Natasha, Clint, Tony, and Bruce. Steve always thinks how much better it would be if it were three couples, instead of two and the awkward fifth wheel, and the suave, god-like sixth wheel. He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining how different mornings would be if he were Bucky’s. 

Bucky would hold Steve’s hand as they walked into the school, they’d sit closer to each other, and their legs would brush. Bucky would put his hand on Steve’s leg casually as he laughs at a joke that Tony makes. Steve would lean into Bucky, sometimes he’d even put his head on Bucky’s shoulder. They’d linger a little too long, having to almost sprint to class because they just couldn’t bear to be without each other. They’d text each other during every class they have apart, and even the ones they have together. Bucky would send him a text, a smirk on his face, staring at Steve until he looked at his phone. He’d send Steve obnoxious hearts and kissy faces. And goddamn it, Steve would love every second of it. 

“Steve?!” The aforementioned blond jolts at his name. He opens his eyes, a light blush coating his cheeks. He looks up at Bucky who has already stood up, “Did’ja’ fall back asleep? Wake the hell up, Steve, it’s time for class.”


	3. I Didn’t Say Those Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky smells Steve, he hangs with Wade and Pietro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all un-beta’d (all three chapters) and I wouldn’t say no to someone who wanted to fix my errors, I know they’re there 
> 
> Also this chap was written at 1 am, so... sorry 
> 
> But in good news I have the whole plot planned, if you may notice I’ve put the chapter number at 10, I might write an epilogue... idk

Smelling like your significant other, your mate, is like having a big neon sign saying, “Don’t come near me, I’m taken!” So, when Steve got in his car this morning Bucky almost lost his mind. He’d always wanted to cover the blond in his scent, make sure no one comes near him, and now... Steve smells like him. Bucky wasn’t sure that leaving the sweatshirt would work, but goddamn it, Steve smells like Bucky owns him. The alpha part of him is all riled up, wants to claim Steve permanently and visibly. Bucky knows he’s gotta chill. 

All day the guys give him knowing looks. Sam keeps doing the stupid eyebrow raise, and Bucky has had enough of his friend winking at him. Even Steve’s friends have been giving him weird looks, and Natasha has punched his arm several more times than he would’ve liked. It seems that everyone but Steve can see how he feels about him. Bucky doesn’t know why he’s convinced himself that if he denies it to his friends then it isn’t true, but he continues. And during their period as library assistants Pietro finally asks the question. They’re shelving books, far away from the prying ears of the students in the library and the librarian. He grabs the book Bucky is trying to shelve and stops him. 

“Have you finally claimed him?” He sounds too eager, too excited. This is the voice of someone who’s waited for years for something. Bucky sighs and yanks the book back. He rolls his eyes as he shelves the book. 

“No, Pietro. Stop asking.” Bucky has heard this question three times. The first time Bucky sent Pietro a snapchat of himself and sleeping Steve, cuddling. Bucky awoke one morning to find the omega curled around his body. He very gently and quietly grabbed his phone and took a shit ton of photos. He sent one of them to Pietro. He freaked out. He screenshotted it and shows it to Bucky every time he denies his feelings for Steve. The second time was when Bucky first drove Steve to school the first time. Pietro automatically assumed and Bucky had to punch him to get him to shut up about it. He’d talked about it all through Bucky’s lunch hour and he’d finally just had enough. Thankfully he’d had the self control to not punch Pietro in the face, but to instead punch his arm. It had been a bit of a struggle though to convince himself, though. 

“You have feelings for him, Bucky. One day he’s gonna start his heat, and you’re gonna-“ the slap to Pietro’s chest stops him. Bucky frowns at his friend. Pietro really doesn’t know when to shut up. It must be a cultural difference. He and his twin sister moved here from God-knows-where. Bucky loves that Pietro is here, he’s been a fantastic friend since… freshman year if he remembers right, but the guy has more sass than Bucky himself. 

“Shut the,” Bucky looks around for any teachers, or the librarian, “fuck up, Pietro.” 

The rest of the school day flies by and soon he’s dropping Steve off, wishing he could kiss Steve goodbye. He , instead, bites the inside of his cheek as the blond walks into his home. Bucky has made it a rule to not drive away until Steve is inside. Too many times his forgetful friend doesn’t have his keys, and Sarah isn’t home to let him in. He’s had to drive back to Steve’s, and let the little, shivering Omega in his warm car (or the miserable, sweating Omega, depending on the season, whether it be sweltering heat or freezing winter). Bucky sighs sadly as he watches the door latch shut, he can almost hear the sound the lock makes when it’s clicked into place. He can imagine Steve toeing his shoes off, padding upstairs, sock feet carefully stepping on the creaky, old stairs. He knows Steve’s after school routine just as well as he knows his own. 

He shakes his head and puts his Mustang into drive. Bucky has to force himself several times on the drives to Wade’s to focus on the road, not on the image of Steve cuddling his sweatshirt, pushing his nose into the fabric, smelling deeply. Bucky knows that somewhere in that sweatshirt is the vanilla scent of his lust for Steve. The petulant boy had bit his lip, that challenging twinkle in his eye when they were playing rummy. He is way better than Bucky at card games, and he’s too smug about it. Bucky always feels a little hot whenever Steve starts winning and it isn’t because he’s mad. It’s because Steve makes this face; he looks up through his lashes, innocence splashed on his pale features, he bites his lip, sin written on the indignant smile. It makes Bucky’s heart palpitate a little. 

That… that is exactly what he forces out of his brain to focusing on getting from Point A to Point B. He doesn’t usually struggle this hard at getting Stevie out of his brain, but for some reason the blond lingers. He absentmindedly reaches over towards Steve who doesn’t sit in his passenger seat. Arriving at Wade’s doesn’t help shake him of his best friend, his first love, his soul mate. He finally forces himself out of his car and into Wade’s house. He wants to spend time with friends that he isn’t in love with, he wants to love and not have that sad feeling in his chest that only comes with looking into the eyes of the only boy he wants but can never have. He wants to shove his face full of food and just enjoy himself. 

Not that- Not that he doesn’t when he’s with Steve, but there is always the underlying torment of Bucky’s need. His hidden lust for a boy who most likely sees him as a brother. He years for Steve, absolutely needs for him. But he does enjoy spending time with him, pain in his soul or otherwise. 

Sadly, Pietro and Wade do not let Bucky forget so easily the events that transpired during school. Of course, Pietro had told Wade about their conversation. Bucky’s weak facade is as opaque as ever. He is clawing to hold onto something that is barely there. As he, Pietro, and Wade lay on the bean bags in Wade’s basement his resolve begins cracking. Wade is incessantly grilling him about Steve, with Pietro speaking up every now and then to emphasize a point Wade has, as an almost ornery hype-man. Bucky begins to crumble as Wade sits up, becoming more passionate in his admonishing of Bucky. 

“-and for another thing! I have only ever seen one person look at another the way you look at Spangly.” Wade huffs, and Bucky chuckles at the nickname. In middle school they went on a trip to a water park. Steve, for some reason, decided that he had to have a speedo of the American flag. It generated tons of nicknames ranging from Star-butt, to Star Spangled Steve. Wade has adapted the nickname to Spangly. That’s all he calls Steve. Bucky doesn’t remember the last time he heard Wade say his real name. “Clint. The way Clint looks at Natasha. And they’ve been together since.. what? Second grade? Ten years has nothing on you, Jamie.” And for some godforsaken reason Wade calls him Jamie, instead of James, or Bucky, or Barnes, like literally everyone else, “You look at him like he is the air you breathe.” Pietro adds nothing but a huff of steadfast agreement. 

“I d-“ Bucky just barely starts speaking before Pietro sits up, a determined look in his steely eyes. 

“I swear to Dumnezeu sa if you deny your feelings for Steve I’m going to send him that picture.” Pietro pulls his phone out of his pocket and points it at Bucky. Suddenly he feels like he’s staring down the barrel of a metaphorical gun that could end up not being so metaphorical, and shooting a bullet that will tear through his and Steve’s relationship. He gulps and lifts up onto his elbows, look at Wade and Pietro who stare him down.

“Fine! Alright! I have goddamn feelings for him!” Bucky sits up, the frustration of the situation exploding through his mouth in the form of words that have been pent up for much too long, “I love him! He’s perfect and amazing and great! I want him to be mine! Is that what you two want?! He should be mine!” Wade lays back down on his beanbag and snorts.

“Peter owes me twenty bucks.” 

“WADE!”


	4. What We Used to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad Steve, but also Natasha and Wanda!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this during finals because I had nothing else to do
> 
> Merry Christmas!! And a happy New Year! (Or Happy Hanukah, or Happy Holidays, or Enjoy whatever you celebrate!!!)

Breathlessness forces Steve to reach for his inhaler. He usually doesn’t react to Natasha’s house, and her three dogs, this badly. It must be his allergies acting up. He’s been having this issue lately, needing his inhaler more. It’s weird, his allergies don’t normally kick up during this time of year. He smiles as Natasha narrows her eyes at Wanda. The two have decided to face off. Steve knows this won’t end well, Nat is fiercely competitive. She never looses, and if she does, she makes you think that you lost. Wanda, on the other hand is just as a strong personality. She hasn’t let anything deter her success here in the States. Her and her family’s move here has only helped her. They’re both strong women, and Steve ridicules the man who thinks he can best either one. 

Wanda surely will fail because Natasha has a background in dance. But, every time they play Just Dance at parties Wanda usually schools everybody. Natasha usually opts out, choosing to sit with Clint, and watch, instead. The song starts and Steve bites his lip, watching their graceful bodies move in sync. Their scores stay very close the whole song, but Wanda gets the last gold move and Nat doesn’t. The song fades to a close and Wanda cheers. Natasha chuckles and moves to turn off the Wii. Steve smiles at Wanda as she sits on the couch beside him. Her slim figure, and sharp features make for a very attractive girl. She stretches her legs over Steve’s lap, and Steve puts his hands on her calves. 

“Oh, copil dragut. Your face… Stop being so sad.” She raises her eyebrows, a concerned look on her face. Steve bites his lip and looks down at his hands, Wanda’s sweet, honey scent fills Steve’s nose. He shrugs, indecision written on his features. He wants to share his misery, but… He can’t admit to it. He can’t make it real. He wants to tell them, to be able to talk to somebody. 

“He looks constipated.” Natasha says as she sits down, throwing her legs over Wanda’s. Steve pulls his hands from under the weight of her legs, laughing with Wanda at Nat’s brashness. 

“I’m not. And don’t make any fart jokes either.” Steve chuckles, hoping his topic change will work. To his delight Natasha moves on quickly, starting a story. She always has the wildest stories, and Steve can’t help but wonder if she makes them up. Peculiar as they are, they are entertaining, so Steve lets her rant. 

It’s not till later, during a ‘rousing’ game of Never Have I ever, does the topic come back to Steve. Natasha has one finger left, Steve has four (Nat forcing him to put a finger down in a bout of faux frustration, making a jab about his allergies), and Wanda has three. She has been thinking for a while, and Nat started listing off things Steve hasn’t done in a feeble attempt to keep herself in the game. She lays her head on Steve’s knee groaning as Wanda stays silent. At some point during the game Nat had moved to the floor beside Steve. He can’t remember if it was after she went to the bathroom or after she got the Cheetos. 

“Never have I ever been in love.” Wanda finally states, a proud look on her face. Steve’s weary little heart begins to palpitate. He looks between Natasha and Wanda, who are locked in an intense stare down as Natasha puts up her middle finger, and slowly puts it down. Steve quietly lowers a finger, and gulps. It feels like his heart is going to explode. His stomach feels like a ball of knots, and someone just keeps pulling on the same string, thinking it’ll unravel eventually. “All right, Steve, it’s your turn. Since Nat is out.” 

“Wait, wait!” Natasha shouts, she throws a pillow towards Wanda who shrieks, “Steve put down a finger. STEVE PUT DOWN A FINGER!” Natasha sits up and leans close to Steve, staring him down. “Who?” Steve gulps and looks between his two female friends. He shouldn’t have done this. Wanda throws the pillow at Steve, echoing Natasha’s word. 

“I…” Steve gulps. All these years, his secret… He’s kept it quiet, suffered silently, watched in agony as Bucky screwed around. When Steve finally presented he thought it meant he and Bucky were destined to be together. He thought… It’s finally time, Bucky will tell me that he wants me… But he didn’t and Steve realized it’s probably because he’s not good enough, he’s not a good Omega. He’s… too frail, too sick, too skinny. 

Steve starts to cry, and he feels immensely foolish. He cannot believe he’s crying in front of Natasha and Wanda. He’s only ever cried about this in front of his mother, her soothing hands, words, scent, the only things able to soften his pain. He covers his face with his hands, wishing he could just go back to before he started this. 

“Steve?” Natasha moves to his side, wrapping an arm around him. She smells like green tea and concern. Steve turns into her side and sighs shakily. 

“He’ll never love me back.” He sobs. Natasha rubs his back, and Steve doesn’t get to see the knowing look that Natasha and Wanda share. 

“Who copil dragut, you’ve not told us who.” Wanda says softly. Steve pulls back from Natasha and reaches for his inhaler. He wipes at his eyes and breathes in his medicine. He wishes he could breathe in Bucky’s scent that way.

“Buck.” He fiddles with his inhaler, not wanting to look at Nat or Wanda, “F-For years… I thought… I th-thought wh-when I-I pres-sented that he-he’d take me i-i-into his arms and…” Steve really doesn’t like crying. He feels like crap, and his eyes hurt, and his scent gets even more muted than it already is. Natasha rubs his back, sighing. If only they’d see… 

“Stevie, it’ll be okay.” Steve leans back into Natasha, and mumbles something about her not being able to promise anything. 

-

The next morning Steve’s eyes hurt and his nose is stuffy. He groans and rolls over onto his other side, wishing he were still at Nat’s. His bed is cold and Bucky’s sweatshirt is starting to not smell like him anymore. Bucky… his name conjures up images of long, dark hair being pulled back, muscles rippling as he stretches, his chest rising and falling softly as he sleeps in Steve’s bed… Steve hates this. He’s never felt this bad about his unrequited love. His stomach churns and he groans into his pillow, his fingers gripping Buck’s sweatshirt. He misses Bucky, and his… everything. It’s only been two days. He wants to hang out with Bucky. 

He can hear the news playing in the living room which means Ma is gone. She always turns on the news so that Steve doesn’t wake up to a silent house. He’d always hated doing that when he was younger, so she’d gotten in the habit. Steve bites his lips and reaches for his phone. He hesitates, remembering the looks of pity on Natasha and Wanda’s faces. He pushes that away and dials Bucky’s number. 

Nervousness grips his already churning stomach, and Steve honestly feels like he could hurl. He bites the inside of his lip, waiting to hear the only other voice that soothes him. Bucky and his mom both have such comforting, sweet tones. He wishes he could record their voices and just have them on a constant loop in his head.

“Stevie!” 

Bucky’s voice immediately soothes the unease in his stomach, and the ache in his heart.

“Buck, I’m bored.”


	5. Please, I'm Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buck and Steve hang, Steve starts to not feel so great so Bucky takes him home
> 
> (Edit: I changed Wade and Peter to Wanda and Thor because i want to write a wade and peter story)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so so sosos sosososososo sorry this is late, but here's 2000 some odd words to make up for it
> 
> and a cliff hanger.... oops
> 
> (y'all waited a whole year for this lololol)
> 
> we're halfwayyyyyyy (halfway there OOOOOoOOOo livin' on a prayer)

Ma and Pa’s Diner isn’t very full. Brunch isn’t a busy time for them. It’s one of Bucky’s favorite times to be there. There is some soft chatter, music quietly playing, the sounds of the kitchen… but it lets Bucky focus on Steve. The blond always orders the same thing for brunch. Chocolate chip pancakes, a single egg, and a strawberry milkshake. The combination seems weird to Bucky, but also very Steve. Bucky orders waffles, bacon, and black coffee. Steve always tries to get him to drink some of his milkshake, but Bucky always declines, saying that the skinny boy needs as much food as he can get.

This morning he surprises himself and Steve by ordering a shake. A small chocolate shake. The waitress, Ellie, looks just as surprised as Steve when Bucky asks for the milkshake. She shrugs but writes it down. She doesn’t dawdle, knowing they’ve ordered all they will order, and leaves them be. Her turning and walking away leaves a subtle scent of peppermint and rebellion. A smirk crosses Bucky’s features, then a little paper ball hits his face. He turns to Steve who has an innocent smile on his face. Bucky raises his eyebrows.

“What?” Steve asks, his smile only growing wider. Bucky’s heart does a somersault. He’s so adorable and Bucky just wants to hold him, dear Lord. Bucky picks up the paper ball and examines it in a show for Steve. He shows little scrunched up wrapper to Steve in a Vanna White display. Steve chuckles and looks down at his lap. As soon as he looks away from Bucky, the brunet throws the paper ball at Steve, immediately turning away to keep from laughing at where it landed. Steve’s nimble little fingers work through his hair, trying to find the wrapper, his expression not changed. When he finds it, he sets it on the table, waiting to throw it back. Bucky glances over at his best friend who has assumed his comfortable position of cross legged in their booth.

It was actually here, in Ma and Pa’s Diner that Bucky realized he loved Steve. They had just watched the premiere of a superhero movie that Steve had been looking forward to for almost two years. It was around one thirty A.M. and Steve had started dissecting the movie, sitting cross legged, a strawberry milkshake in front of him. He’d read and reread the comic books more than enough times to know the story back to front, front to back, upside down, and sideways. Steve had been emphatically pointing out the differences between the comics and the movie. He’d insisted several times that he loved the movie, but the comics were better, and Bucky just had to read them. It was right then, that moment - while Steve was obsessing over one of his favorite things - that Bucky realized. He hadn’t been upset at that moment, he’d been happy, thinking that Steve was meant for him, thinking that his person was one of the cutest, kindest, best people he knew.

It wasn’t until later that reality set in, but that was a whole different pot of stew.

“So, how’s Sarah?” Bucky asks, eyeing the paper ball in front of Steve. The blond smiles softly at the mention of his mom. His eyes light up and Bucky is reminded of another reason why he loves Steve.

“She actually kinda got promoted. I mean, I don’t really know how the hospital works, but she’s in charge of a few people now, and she’s getting paid a little more. So, that’s really cool,” Steve starts unravelling the ball as he talks about his mom. Sarah is an RN at the local hospital and she works a lot to keep her and Steve comfortable. Bucky respects her a lot, and Steve loves his mother more than anything. It’s one of the greatest things about him.

“Congrats! That’s really great!”

“Yeah, it’s nice that her hard work is finally getting recognized. I’m really proud of her. My mom is so great,” Steve flattens the wrapper with the end of his thumbnail, and then he looks up at Bucky, “I just hope that now she can do more things for herself. She said she gets a little bit more time off so I hope she rests more. I worry about her.”

Fuck, he’s so goddamn sweet that Bucky might keel over and go into a sugar coma. Bucky can’t stop smiling. He doesn’t stop smiling as Ellie brings their food and shakes. She asks Bucky if he’ll want coffee and he gives her a noncommittal maybe. She shakes her head and tells them to enjoy their meal. They are usually quiet for a few moments after they get their food, but then they settle into a routine of conversation and food consumption. Bucky breaks the silence when he accidentally knocks his foot into Steve’s.

“Sor’,” he says through a mouthful of waffle. Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full and I’ll forgive you,” Steve reprimands his best friend. Bucky rolls his eyes and shoves a forkful of waffle into his mouth, chewing openly. Steve kicks Bucky’s shin and Bucky snorts. The blond takes this opportunity to roll the wrapper back up and chuck it at Bucky. It lands, to the amazement of them both, on Bucky’s syrup covered lips, and stays there.

Bucky reaches up slowly and pulls the paper ball from his lip. He joins Steve’s laughter once he finally swallows the mouthful of waffle. Bucky grabs a napkin as his laughter dies down and wipes the syrup away. He looks at Steve just in time to see him licking his lips. It sends a jolt down his spine. He quickly looks back down at his plate, pretending to examine his bacon, selecting which piece to eat next. He wishes Steve wouldn’t do stuff like that.

Steve interrupts his thoughts with, “Hey, did you know that Thor and Wanda went on a date?” Bucky looks up, surprise clear on his features. He shakes his head, bringing a piece of bacon up to his mouth, indicating with a wave of his hand that he wants Steve to go more in depth. “Yeah, so, apparently, Thor kinda swept Wanda off her feet and they went rollerskating.”

“I knew Thor was gonna’ hit that,” Bucky says, his piece of bacon half out of his mouth. Steve frowns. He reaches over and breaks the piece of bacon off and sets the piece on Bucky’s plate.

“Bucky. Do you really think it’ll just be a fling? I’m pretty sure Wanda is into Thor. Like, like-likes him.” Steve pushes away his pancake, the thing half eaten, and brings his egg closer to him.

“I dunno’, ‘cause Thor isn’t really a relationship kind of guy. Ya’ know. Wanda is sweet an’ all, but I doubt Thor will let himself be tied down.” They begin to dissect Wanda and Thor, and how their relationship may pan out. They eventually move onto their other friends relationships, sharing details the other doesn’t know, a sort of friendly gossip. Bucky can’t help but notice how little Steve is eating. Ellie eventually comes and takes their plates away, and brings their milkshakes. By the time Bucky has drank his entire milkshake, Steve has barely gotten through a third of his own. They’re in an intense discussion about one of their favorite video games, so Bucky doesn’t think to ask about it until Steve pauses their conversation by replying to a text from his Mom.

“Stevie, you alright? You barely touched your food, and you have taken like two whole sips of your shake,” Bucky leans forward, anticipating the worry that will surely follow Steve’s response. His friend shrugs, a frown coming onto his face.

“I dunno’, I haven’t been feelin’ so hot lately. I think my allergies kicked up real bad at Nat’s last night and it’s left me feeling worse for wear today.”

“You want me to take ya’ home?” Bucky asks, the concern clear on his face. Steve draws his eyebrows together. He picks up his phone, and starts typing.

“Well, Ma won’t be home for a couple hours and I don’t really wanna be alone.”

“I can just stay with you. Tell your Ma not to worry. That the unregistered Nurse Bucky is on the case.” Bucky smiles a lopsided smile and goes to pay the check, patting Steve on the shoulder.  
The ride to Steve’s house is uneventful, Steve almost falls asleep. When they get into the house Bucky turns on the TV as Steve moves towards the couch. Bucky gets a blanket then sits beside Steve on the couch. Steve flips through the channels, finally settling on some old action move as Bucky unfolds the blanket. He’s seen Sarah take care of Steve when he’s sick. A lot of times when they were younger Steve would just get sick unexpectedly. So, Bucky would sit in the arm chair, carrying on a conversation with Sarah, and Steve, who would have his head in Sarah’s lap, as he waited for a parent to pick him up. He would watch as Sarah would run her fingers through Steve’s hair, and down his arm, alternating at a pace that only a Mom would know how to perfect.

Bucky pats his lap and Steve gives him a funny look, “Aw, c’mon, Stevie. I’ll run my fingers through your hair just like your Ma does.” Steve’s cheeks flush and Bucky worries for a moment about fever. Steve lays down without much protest, and Bucky puts the blanket over top of him. He touches his hand to Steve’s forehead, checking the temperature. He’s done this for his siblings many a times when his mother wasn’t home, and he was baby sitting. Steve isn’t hotter than usual so Bucky starts running his fingers through the blond locks. The hair is a bit longer than Steve normally keeps it. He hasn’t been to cut it in a while. Buck doesn’t mind. It just means that there is more hair for him to mess with.

This is heaven. He has a beautiful boy cuddled up against him, a shitty (No, Steve, this is totally great), old action movie playing, the sunlight warms the room. It couldn’t get better than this. Steve ends up falling asleep, and Bucky drifts off not long after. Even in sleep the smile doesn’t leave his face.

He wakes up to Steve sitting up and stumbling off to the bathroom, muttering something about having to piss. Bucky rubs at his eyes, yawing. He looks at his phone. It’s three in the afternoon. They napped for quite a while, which is totally fine by Bucky, hopefully Steve has started to feel better. After a while Steve’s scent, along with a hint of vanilla wafts it’s way to Bucky’s nose. He perks up. What is Steve doing in there? Why is his scent so strong? Bucky’s curiosity is taken over by panic and worry when he hears Steve yell his name. He gets up from the couch and runs towards the bathroom. Each step he gets closer the smell gets stronger.

When he opens the bathroom door he hits a wall of flowers. Or at least the scent is so strong he feels like twenty flower shops threw up in here. And the scent of arousal, the vanilla smell is so strong. Steve is strewn across the floor, his hand on the edge of the bathtub. He weakly tries to lift himself up, but he can’t.

“Bu-Bucky…” the omega has never looked so pitiful. Bucky wants to do a plethora of things, the top two being take care of Steve, and ravish him. This can only be one thing… “Hel-Help me… my- my heat.” Steve whimpers and looses his grip on the bathtub. That’s when Bucky sees the wet spot on Steve’s jeans. He’s… he’s actually having his first heat right now. Bucky’s mind is just white noise.

“Steve…” Bucky breathes out the name like a prayer. The aforementioned whines at the call of his name. That snaps Bucky out of his stupor. He moves closer to Steve and picks him up, an arm under his neck, and an arm under his knees. He has to grit his teeth when Steve starts whining. He needs to get Steve to bed. He isn’t sure what to do after that though, but he knows he has to get the omega comfortable.

“Bucky.” Never again in his life will James Buchanan Barnes hear anything sweeter than that utterance of his name. He never wants anyone to call him Bucky again, just so that the sweet word that spilled from Steve’s lips will be the only way he hears it. He looks down at his best friend who looks worn down beyond belief. His too long hair is matted to his forehead with sweat. His eyes are almost glazed over. Bucky pushes open the door to Steve’s bedroom and quickly makes his way over to Steve’s bed.

“What can I do, Steve?” Bucky asks, helplessly. He’s never felt like less of an Alpha than he does right now. He doesn’t know how to help his omega.

“Clothes… s-so hot.” Steve whines. He paws at the button on his jeans, his face scrunched up in concentration. Bucky pushes his hands away and undoes the button and fly. Steve lifts his hips up automatically and Bucky starts tugging the jeans down. In his right mind Bucky would’ve savored this moment. He doesn’t often see Steve in just his underwear. The blond always has on pants, doesn’t like being anywhere close to naked in front of people. But Bucky’s only focus is making the omega comfortable. He helps Steve pull off his t-shirt, and he tosses both articles of clothing towards the laundry basket in the corner.

“What else? Stevie, tell me what you need?”

Steve blindly reaches out for Bucky, ending up grabbing his bicep. Steve whines again, “Buck…” The Alpha stumbles backwards as he watches Steve struggle to pull down his boxers.

He can only softly mutter, “Fuck.”


	6. You're Amazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so, we’re goin’ back in time a little, then going back to buck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably not what you expected, or wanted
> 
> (sorry again for being late, school started back up, but here you are)

Steve’s stomach only felt worse and worse as they drove to his house. When he finally manages to shakily unlock the door he stumbles towards the couch. Steve grabs the remote, looking towards the TV that Bucky brought to life. He doesn’t have anything in mind to watch he just wants some noise to hopefully drown out his nausea. Bucky flops down on the couch beside him, a lopsided grin on his face. He raises his eyebrows as he watches Bucky pat his lap, an invitation to Steve. 

“Aw, c’mon, Stevie. I’ll run my fingers through your hair just like your Ma does.” Bucky’s smile isn’t any less cheerful, isn’t facetious…. A blush rises to Steve’s cheeks. He always dreams about being close to Bucky, having him hold Steve near. Being in his arms, held carefully like he’s breakable. That’s how Bucky hugs Steve, how he handles him when they’re wrestling. Bucky never makes jabs about Steve’s size with ill intent, never makes him feel less about himself for it, but he always is careful. He always makes sure Steve isn’t in harm’s way. It’s one thing Steve loves about Bucky. He protects him, the way an Alpha is supposed to. 

He lays his head gently on Bucky’s lap, easily getting comfortable. Then Bucky lays a a blanket over him and he feels like he can’t breathe. Did Bucky just... tuck him in? Then Steve feels his fingers gently brush over his forehead. He lets his eyes flutter shut as Bucky begins running his fingers through Steve’s hair. He’s suddenly acutely aware of how long his hair is and he wants to run to a barber and get it cut. But a wave of sickness rushes over him and he sighs.

He eventually falls asleep, his misery fading as he slips into unconsciousness. 

Skin against skin, hot breaths against his neck. He grips the sheet below him and gasps heavily. Pleasure courses through him and he throws his head back. The man above him kisses his neck and Steve bucks his hips up. The man lifts up and his best friend’s face comes into comes into view. 

“Steve...”

Steve sits up, gasping. He looks around him. Still in the living room. Bucky is asleep. Steve is... he’s hard, not the normal morning half chub, he’s hard. Steve stumbles off the couch, towards the bathroom. 

“Gotta piss.” He says, kind of towards Bucky just in case he woke up. He gets into the bathroom and collapses on the floor. He feels really hot. He reaches down to put his palm on the tent in his jeans. A jolt of pleasure shoots up his spine and Steve realizes for the first time that maybe something isn’t right. He forces himself to stand and looks in the mirror. His skin is flushed and sweaty. 

A wave of sharp need forces him to his knees. He wraps his arms around his stomach as an unholy sound escapes his mouth. He grabs onto the bathtub, trying to steady himself. Then it hits him. This is his heat. This must be why he’s been feeling so lousy. It’s been a while since he took health freshman year. He’s forgotten what he was taught about first heats. 

He puts his forehead on his forearm and gasps. He can smell Bucky. He could... Alpha... he could help. Steve whines when he thinks about the dream he had. Bucky... 

“Bucky!” 

-

“I-I don’t know wh-what to do!” 

“I’m just glad you had enough sense to get out of the room. Teenage Alphas around omegas, well, some don’t know how to-“

“Mom!” Bucky snaps, he looks towards the door that separates him and Steve. It doesn’t separate Bucky from the intoxicating scent of Steve, or the whimpers he keeps making. Bucky knows he should walk away, but he doesn’t want to leave Stevie alone. 

“Sorry, babe,” Winifred, Bucky’s mom, says, “Get him some water, and make sure he drinks it. He’ll need water every couple of hours until his mom comes home. But she should be home soon shouldn’t she?” Bucky racks his brain trying to remember what Steve said. 

“I... I think so,” Bucky starts towards the kitchen, “I’ll text updates.” Bucky fumbles around, easily finding a cup. 

“It’ll be okay. I’ll call Sarah and let her know what’s going on. I love you, James.” 

“Love you too, Mom.” Bucky sets his phone on the counter. He takes a deep breath trying to keep himself under control. His feelings, his wants, his desires... They don’t fucking matter right now. Steve is his number one priority. 

Bucky fills the cup with water and a few cubes of ice. He takes a few steps out of the kitchen but then stops. He turns and pulls open a few drawers until he finds the straws. He wants this to be as easy as possible for Steve. He stops himself again and takes a deep breath. He wants to take care of Steve, but he knows that he shouldn’t be around him for too long. He will do as much as he can for his tiny omega. 

He opens the door to Steve’s room and he’s hit with the wall of scent again. Vanilla chocolate covered roses, daises coated with sugar. He gasps raggedly and squeezes his eyes closed. In a moment of pure instinct he breathes in deeply, trying to engrave the scent into his memory. Humiliation washes over him as he realizes what he’s doing, and that Steve is whining again. Bucky shakes away those instincts as best he can. Then he realizes Steve is naked and a whole new wave of instincts washes over him. He squats down and looks away from Steve. He shouldn’t look. Steve will be embarrassed enough about this situation, he can’t make it worse for him. As much as he wants to look, as much as he wants to hold Steve, as much as he wants to kiss him, as much as he wants to touch him…

“Stevie? Do you want some water?” Bucky forces himself to keep his eyes on his best friend’s face. Steve turns to look at him, and Bucky has never wanted to hold his best friend more than he does right now. He looks terribly pitiful, his eyes heavy, his bottom lip swollen. He says something weakly and Bucky draws his eyebrows together. “Stevie?” The blond nods his head just as weakly as he spoke. Bucky shows him the straw. 

“Buck…” Steve rasps. Bucky bites his lip and puts the straw to Steve’s bottom lip. He’s afraid Steve will say something that will make him loose his cool. He doesn’t know how that could happen, what Steve would say. But he decides that it’s better for them both if Steve keeps his pretty lips shut. Bucky watches fondly as Steve gulps down the water. Bucky’s eyes wander over Steve’s face. He realizes that Steve is coated in sweat. Once the blond has stopped drinking Bucky sets the cup down and turns to get the shirt he’d just recently taken off of Steve. He uses the sleeve to wipe away the sweat on Steve’s forehead. Steve weakly grabs Bucky’s wrist. 

“Steve?”

“Bucky… Need…” 

“If the rest of that sentence is not water or food or something like that, I can’t help ya’, pal.” Bucky bites his lip again and looks away from Steve as the boy whines. It’s so pathetic and needy that Bucky wants to kiss the sound away. He kisses Steve’s hand instead and stands to leave. 

“P-Please, Bucky…” Steve drags out the end of Bucky’s name, extending the last sound in a desperate plea that the brunet isn’t sure how to answer. 

“Do you need something I can provide from the kitchen? Or the bathroom? Or something I can get?” Bucky asks, not turning towards Steve. He hears silence for a second, then another heart-wrenching whine. 

“C-Closet… In-in the closet. Shoe- shoe box. I-I don’ wanna t-tell you what’s in it. Just- just… get it.” Steve is breathy and clearly forcing the words out. Bucky nods and moves towards the closet. His brain supplies one thing. The filthy thought shocks Bucky, there’s no way that Steve could have a… “Don’t-don’t open the box!” Bucky is positive now. His sweet, innocent Steve. Terrible, terrible images filter through Bucky’s mind. It takes him a moment to find it, and when he does he has a small crisis. Steve said not to look, but he has to. He shouldn’t… He wants to… 

The contents of the box both surprise and shock him. A little cardboard piece, taped inside the box separates it into two compartments. In one is what Bucky suspected, a sleek, black dildo, and a bottle of lube. It’s whats in the other compartment that surprises him. There’s an origami swan, quite like the one that he made for Steve, a few paper odds and ends… One of them looks like a straw wrapper. Is that a Coney Island ticket? Bucky realizes he’s spent too much time looking at the box, he quietly closes the lid and stands. He averts his gaze as he walks over to Steve. 

“Fan on, p-please.” Steve asks. Bucky nods and quickly makes his way out of the room, flicking the fan on as he does so. He closes the door and basically runs to the living room. He texts his mom to tell her that Steve drank the water, and then he starts pacing. His thoughts are going about a million miles an hour and he can’t focus on a single one. Steve has a dildo, sweet, small, skinny Steve… has a dildo. And he probably fucks himself on it, calling out Buc- 

Bucky stops himself, he shouldn’t think things like that. Holy fuck Steve’s scent has driven him up the wall. Wait, that box… What were those odds and ends and why would Steve want to hide them away? They are as shameful, and as secret as a dildo. If Bucky was right about the Coney Island ticket… The origami swan was from him, the ticket was from when he took Steve to Coney Island, and now that he thinks about one of those little papers was an apology he made for Steve after being a dick. Why would Steve hide all those things away?

Could this mean he has feelings for Bucky? If he considers keeping those things just as shameful as having a dildo… It’s possible that Steve could want to keep that secret.

No, there’s no way. How could Steve have feelings for him? 

Why else would he keep those things, then? 

When Sarah gets home Bucky has worn himself out, and he plops onto one of the chairs in the living room, telling her exactly what happened. He messages his mom that he’s going to leave soon while Sarah goes to check on Steve. He realizes the parallel to when they were younger and Steve would get sick. To have that incident so closely replicated twice, it’s a crazy coincidence. He moves through the motions of putting his shoes and coat on. When he hugs Sarah goodbye she thanks him. 

“I don’t know what Steve or I would do without you, James. Thank you for… not letting you get in the way of taking care of Steve.” Bucky pulls back and smiles. She’s so kind that Bucky can’t help but feel sorry for her that life has doled out nothing but hardship for her.

“Well, it didn’t matter. My fe- uh, anything didn’t matter when it came to Steve. His health and safety was my first priority.” Sarah squeezes Bucky’s arm, that knowing look on her face. 

“Steve is lucky to have such a good Alpha in his life.” Sarah smiles sly and Bucky raises both of his eyebrows. She’s not… She can’t be saying… 

“He doesn’t-“ 

“I’m glad that you can take care of him. He’s always going to need that. He’ll have delicate health the rest of his life.” Now Bucky has no way to deny what she’s saying. 

The drive home goes by faster than it normally does. Bucky barely registers any of it. He still is hearing Sarah’s words in his head. He feels so conflicted. She approves of him being Steve’s Alpha, but Steve doesn’t have feelings for Bucky. 

Right?


	7. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the cracken awakens, aka Steve wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on time!

_Steve gasps raggedly. His body is trembling. He’s never been as hot as he is right now, drenched in sweat, under the weight of another body. Bucky looks into Steve’s eyes, biting his lip…_

The sheets around him are tangled and damp. Every part of him is coated in sweat. He sleeps, but yet he’s restless. When he’s awake he’s lucid enough to crave an Alpha, to crave Bucky. The humiliation of what he had Bucky do, what Bucky saw, will surely set in later. For now he fumbles, reaching his hand out of the sheets, searching for the silicone replacement.

_Bucky. Bucky. Bucky. He’s all that fills Steve’s thoughts and vision. Bucky’s hair has started falling out of it’s sloppy place at the back of his head because Steve keeps gripping his hands in it. He arches his back as Bucky runs his fingers on the insides of Steve’s thighs. Bucky leans down a smirk on his face…_

Time has seemingly stopped passing. Steve isn’t sure how long has passed. It could be mere hours, it could be whole days. He’s lost track of time, drowning in his need. He can vaguely register the fabric of his sheets, the feeling of drying slick, the scent of Bucky coming from his sweatshirt. But time does not pass.

_Bucky is surrounding him. Every nerve tingles with Bucky’s touch. His body sings as Bucky kisses his lips, touches his hips, bites his neck. Steve has never felt so alive. He never wants to be anywhere else but Bucky’s arms._

When Steve finally comes to, out of the woods, it’s morning. He can almost hear the cliché birds chirping outside his window. What he actually hears is the TV, but it’s one of those soap operas that his Ma loves so much. She must be home. Steve rolls over, sighing heavily. When he breathes in he smells lavender. He quickly sits up, blinking in the bright sunlight that illuminates his room. His sheets have been changed. His duvet has been switched out for the extra one they keep. His pillowcases are all cleaned. Steve quickly throws the duvet and sheet off of himself, searching. He frantically lifts the pillows. He can’t find it. He looks in the space between his bed and the wall.

He flops down on the bed with a heavy, relieved sigh of, “Thank God.” He squeezes his eyes closed. If his mother changed his sheets there’s no way she missed it. Maybe she did, Steve hopes to God she did. Maybe when she pulled the sheets off the bed it rolled off without her eyes ever passing over it. That’s what he hopes. He doesn’t know if he could handle the humiliation. He groans as his focus changes. His worry is replaced with disgust. His sheets might smell nice but he smells to high hell.

He sits up once again, his head clear of worry. His eyes dart around his room, and they land on a glass of water. The glass is sweating, and Steve gets a flash of dreams he was hoping not to remember. Sweaty bodies, heavy moans. Steve quickly reaches for the water, the almost completely melted ice cubes sloshing as he starts gulping down the water.

He sets the glass down, not wanting to look at it again, and stands. He finds his towel and wraps it around his waist. He pokes his head out his bedroom door and looks up and down the hallway. When he’s satisfied his Ma won’t see him walking to the bathroom he quickly exits his bedroom. When he gets into the bathroom he locks the door. He wants to cleanse himself of the whole ordeal.

Heat, he decides as he turns on the shower, is a miserable experience. Maybe it’d be better with an Alpha to get him through it, but for now he wonders if their health insurance covers suppressants. He lets his towel fall to the floor, stepping into the hot water. He turns so that the water is hitting his back and he closes his eyes. Steve sighs heavily. Another image creeps into his head. Another dream fragment, of Bucky.

Steve’s head pops up and his legs falter momentarily. He curses, remembering suddenly the events that transpired in this very bathroom, in his bedroom. Him asking Bucky to get the box. Another person Steve prays didn’t see his secret. Not to mention all of the little mementos that he keeps in the box.

Bucky saw him naked. Bucky saw him naked! Steve has to sit down in the shower to calm himself down. His best friend saw him naked. In heat. He must be disgusted. He’ll probably never want to talk to Steve again. Steve puts his head on his knees and whimpers. He doesn’t want to loose his best friend.

“You alright, babe?” Ma calls from outside the bathroom. Steve lifts his head up, breathe ragged.

“Yeah, Ma. I’ll be out soon.”

“Do you want pancakes?” She asks, and Steve wants to cry all over again. She’s so unbelievably kind. He has the best mom in the world. He stands weakly.

“Chocolate chip, please.” He bites the inside of his cheek. He rubs his palms into his eyes. He’s made everything complicated and stupid. As he starts washing his body he wishes the soap would wash away more than dirt and grime.

As he gets dressed he opens his phone, someone plugged it in for him, thankfully. He has six hundred and some odd notifications from the group chat, and a plethora of messages from his friends with well wishes for his health. He groans. Bucky must’ve told them he was sick. At least he gave Steve that courtesy.

As he makes his way to the kitchen his anxiety kicks up again. He’s embarrassed as hell. Despite him and his mom sharing a type it’s embarrassing. That’s not something you talk about with your mom. It’s weird. When he enters the kitchen she smiles at him.

“Your pancakes are in the microwave, staying warm.” Her facial expression is nothing but warmth and kindness. Steve gets his pancakes and sets them on the table. He opens the fridge to get out the milk. He pours two small glasses and puts the milk back. He is about to close the fridge door but stops himself, he grabs the chocolate syrup. He wants a glass of chocolate milk, a small glass of chocolate milk. He knows his Ma won’t want one but he asks anyway, just in case. She says no, and Steve works on fixing his own. The kitchen is relatively quiet. Steve appreciates it. He’ll be ready to talk to Ma after a few more moments of silence.

When they sit down to eat she finally breaks the silence, “How are you feeling?” Steve looks down at his pancakes, cutting them into little pieces, putting off answering the question.

“I’m fine.” He shrugs. He stuffs a too large bite of pancake into his mouth, further prolonging anymore responses from him. There is another moment of silence, as if Sarah is searching for the right words. Steve looks up at her briefly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you. I know a first heat can be a difficult thing. It’s a good thing Bucky was here.” Steve stiffens at the mention of Bucky’s name and looks back at his plate. For Steve it is _not_ a good thing that Bucky was here. It is a bad thing, a very bad thing. Steve shrugs in lieu of a response. Sarah frowns, “You’re lucky to have such a dedicated best friend.”

“I might not anymore.” Steve mutters, his heart sinking.

“Why would you say that, sweetie?” Sarah’s heart hurts as her baby boy looks up at her, tears in his eyes. She reaches over and grabs his hand. He sniffles and shrugs.

“He jus’… I dunno, Ma. ‘m jus’ so upset, ‘cause I- I love him so much.” Steve squeezes his Ma’s hand, and closes his eyes. He can’t cry over this right now. Not in front of his Ma. She rubs her thumb over his hand.

“Oh, babe. I know. He cares about you too, though. Don’t think that he doesn’t. He was worried sick when he left. He made me promise I’d text him updates about you. Oh, that reminds me. You should probably text him and tell him that you’re fully conscious.

“Wh-what?”

“Oh, yeah. He was fretting. I was worried he was going to work himself into a fit. He’s your best friend, Steve. He cares about you.” Sarah kisses Steve’s hand and lets go of it, picking her fork back up. Steve gets his phone out of his pocket and opens his conversation with Bucky.

It takes him a few minutes to decide on what to text Bucky, he finally settles on the very eloquent, ‘i’m still alive.’ With that he puts his phone away and continues to eat his breakfast. 


	8. I Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky talks to Steve, Bucky talks to his Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, hi, hello, so this is a tad late
> 
> i'm sorry, i've been very busy with school and other things, chap 9 should be up tomorrow or the day after, and then you'll be back on your regularly scheduled program for chapter 10

Bucky was in agony all weekend. His best friend is alone, suffering through his heat. Bucky’s body is screaming at him, demanding to help Steve. He wishes to help his mate.

Not his mate. Not his mate.

The first day back to school without Steve only increased his worry. He told everyone Steve was sick, there was no need to accentuate his best friends embarrassment with comments from their friend group. While they come from a place of love they’re a little much sometimes.

He worried all through Monday, and he expected Tuesday to be much of the same. In third period he finally gets relief. His third period teacher, the ever so nerdy, Mr. Coulson, is going off on a tangent. He’s known for his tangents and there are a couple of students who try to start him on them to get out of homework. He’s passionate and extremely knowledgable about chemistry, physics, and calculus. He teaches the subjects with a nerdy passion that most can’t empathize. 

Bucky slyly pulls out his phone and just barely manages to contain himself when he sees Steve’s name. He opens his phone and smiles at the text. 

‘i’m still alive.’

Bucky swiftly replies with, ‘Good to know, I really thought you’d died this time, and there was no fairy tale rescue in your future.’ He puts his phone away, sliding into his backpack. He needs to be paying attention for when Mr. Coulson get’s back on track. He has got to pass physics, and he knows if he left his phone near his reach he’d pay more attention to Stevie. 

The day seems to drag on and with every buzz of his phone, be it a text from Steve or not, Bucky wants to leap out of his seat and get into his car. He would’ve dipped the moment Steve had texted if he knew that his Mom wouldn’t find out. She’d kill Bucky if she knew he skipped school. He taps his fingers on his desk rapidly, trying to calm his frayed nerves. Not even the constant stream of texts from Steve helps. He just wants to hold his best friend, to grab on and never, ever let go. He wants to protect Steve, to kiss him, to hug him, to shower him with love and affection. If anything Steve’s one sided witty banter makes Bucky more anxious. He hears several comments about his scent, as he had the day before. 

Pietro tells him, “If Steve doesn’t get better soon he’ll be paying my medical bills. You’re destroying my nose with your worry. “ 

Bucky brushes him off, hurrying the clock along. He just wants to see his Stevie. It’s driving him mad, the wait, the constant checking the clock. He feels on the brink of an institution when the last bell finally rings. He practically sprints to his car, just wanting to see Steve. 

-

“Buck, you’re gonna crush me.” Steve gasps out, slapping his best friend’s arm. Bucky chuckles happily and finally releases the blond. He steps back, smiling at Steve. 

“I was worried about you, Stevie.” Bucky huffs, “You’re not allowed to do that to me again.” Bucky pinches Steve’s cheeks like he’s a child, he bats Bucky’s hand away, groaning. He chuckles and turns to start walking towards his room. Bucky’s eyes trace over Steve’s retreating form, he follows, biting his lip. 

Steve’s house is quiet. It smells different. It feels different. Bucky doesn’t like it. Things have changed he can feel it. Bucky’s instincts are telling him to protect Steve. To shield him from the change. Bucky aches with his need for Steve. Not to make Steve’s heat about him, but Steve’s heat has made Bucky yearn for his best friend more than he ever has.

“Buck, I feel like... I feel like a truck ran over me.” Steve flops onto his bed, and Bucky follows, shoving Steve over. Bucky lays on his stomach and pulls a pillow under his chin to prop his head up. He looks over at Steve. 

“Well, at least you look good.” Bucky says. He realizes that maybe that’s not the best thing to say. Steve starts blushing and Bucky doesn’t really mind so much. He shrugs and pushes Bucky. 

“How much have I missed at school?” he asks, and Bucky hums. He thinks, trying to think through his classes. 

“We had that quiz in Coulson’s class. Hill has assigned a shit ton of work. But other than that for the classes we have together we like... started new things.” Bucky shrugs, “Nothing you and your huge brain can catch up to.” 

Steve turns so that he’s on his side, looking into Bucky’s eyes, “I hate school.” There’s a silent moment, staring into the others eyes, the boys get kind of lost. It seems as if it’ll go on forever, but Bucky breaks the eye contact. He closes his eyes, as if he’s going to take a nap. 

“Steve...” Bucky opens one eye and looks at his friend, he’s still staring at Bucky, “How... how was it?” Bucky had started whispering, “What was it like?” Steve flushes and Bucky opens his eyes again. 

Steve gulps, staring back at him with those big, innocent eyes. Bucky can’t help but he curious. Steve flushes. He can’t help but be embarrassed. His mind fills with his dreams and he wishes he could forget them. Buck is right here, right now, right in front of him. He could have the real thing. All he has to do is reach out and- 

“It was fine. Kinda sucked, not gonna lie.”

“Aw, Stevie, you poor thing.”

“How was your first rut?” Steve asks and Bucky sighs. He wanted to talk about Steve. 

“Well,” when Alphas present they have their first rut, omegas don’t have a heat generally until two or three years after they present. Most Alphas and omegas present during middle school, so Steve is a little slower than most, “I don’t really remember. I discovered what an orgasm was but I was like... eleven so... I don’t really remember.” 

“I had a lot of dreams.” 

“Oh?” well that piques Bucky’s interest. Flushed yet again Steve rolls onto his back.

“Yeah, dreams.” Bucky isn’t sure if the blonde will elaborate further. He can guess what was in those dreams. He’s had rut fever dreams himself. All of them full of his best friend, sweating, moaning, writhing in pleasure. He’s thought about those dreams a lot. He hopes to God that Steve had some dreams like that of him. 

“Is that it? That’s all you’re gonna say?” Bucky asks, poking Steve’s soft side. The blond recoils from the poke and groans. He turns his head ever so slightly towards Bucky to look at him. 

“They were...” Steve trails off, looking at the ceiling, Bucky realizes his eyes have closed. He’s imagining something, Bucky just knows it, “They were... something I’d never had before.” Steve flutters his eyes open, a breath escaping him that is louder than most. Bucky wants to hold him so badly. His limbs ache to reach out, to touch... 

“So, are we going to play or what?” Steve sits up, a bright smile on his face, gesturing to where he keeps his cards. He’s clearly switching topics as to not embarrass himself. Bucky smirks. 

“You prepared to get your weak, little ass beat?”

“I’m better than you!”

-

“You look so tired, doll.” A hand runs through Bucky’s hair. He cracks one eye open and looks up at his mother. She seems so concerned. Her scent is sweet and good, very much akin to her personality. She smells like a bakery. He leans into her, sighing heavily. She’s right. He’s exhausted. Hanging out with Steve is becoming extremely taxing. To hold back his pain, his need, his want. To be a good friend. To not ask for a kiss. To not cuddle his best friend. To be who Steve wants him to be. Bucky is dying. 

“I’m... I am tired.” Bucky concedes, he leans against his mom more, “It’s so hard, Mom. I… Steve is just so…” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Winifred continues to play with his hair, “Do you wanna talk about it?” Bucky sighs. He tells her yes and they shift to a more comfortable position with her leaned more against the couch, and him with his legs extended over the arm. 

“I think he’s the one, and- and I don’t think he feels that way.” Bucky fiddles with the strings on his sweatpants as he speaks, “I love him so much, and I just want him to be mine. His scent is like… the best thing ever. Not many people actually know what he smells like. But when I get to hug him… I’ve known him so long that I can pick up on it from across the room. He’s so sweet, Ma. You know him, he’s… His smile is… and his hair… I just…” 

“You got it bad, huh?” She asks, a knowing smile on her face. She and Sarah have had a talk about their boys before, and they came to a compromise where the Winifred and her husband would pay for the wedding, and the Sarah would pay for Steve and Bucky’s tuxes. That’s how sure they are about how their boys feel for each other. Bucky bites his lip. 

His heart hurts. The quiet room should help him process his thoughts, but his mid just gets louder. All parts of himself saying different things. He wants it to be quiet, he wants a solution. He grinds his teeth and forces his brain to be silent. He focuses on the quiet room, his mom’s breathing. He focuses on his own breathing, trying to keep in time with Winifred. He finally opens his eyes and responds. 

“I do. I have it real bad.”


	9. I Swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well... here you go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a billion years late

“If I see another calculus problem I’m going to die, James. This must end!” Steve shoves his pre calc binder off of Bucky’s bed, and curls into a little ball. Math stresses Steve out. Bucky is like his tutor, he’s the only reason Steve has passed any high school math. Bucky is in calculus, Steve is in pre calculus. Bucky’s comforter has bunched around Steve. He feels like he’s in a nest. A nest that has Bucky’s scent all over it. He yearns to cocoon himself in the blanket and be saturated in the library scent that is Bucky. 

He can almost imagine what it’d be like to fall asleep in Bucky’s arms, not beside him. Cuddled into his broad chest, wrapped safely in his arms, content. Bucky would kiss the top of Steve’s head, whisper goodnight, and they’d fall asleep to the sound of waves. Steve has always wanted to live near the ocean to hear waves crashing, and smell the salty sea air. His dream house is on the beach, just him and Bucky, in a paradise. 

“Do not call me that, Steven.” Bucky retorts, picking Steve’s binder up and setting it on his desk. He turns on his swivel chair and smiles at Steve curled into a little ball. He wants to wrap around him and protect him. 

“What? But it’s your name, is it not? James?” Steve lifts up to look at Bucky who narrows his eyes. The blond smiles softly. Bucky likes to pretend he doesn’t like Steve calling him that, but Steve knows he doesn’t actually care. 

“Steven.” Bucky rolls closer to his bed. Steve sits up, grinning like a fool. The dynamic in the room has shifted. Bucky has offered a wordless challenge to Steve. He knows he shouldn’t accept because it’ll end in a wrestling match that Bucky is sure to win. He likes pushing Bucky’s buttons though. He raises his eyebrows. 

“James?” he offers innocently, as if nothing is wrong. 

Bucky leaps from his chair and tackles Steve backwards onto the bed. Steve takes advantage of Bucky’s momentum and rolls them onto Bucky’s back. His small victory doesn’t last very long. They are soon flipped the other way, Bucky trying to pin Steve down. Steve grabs one of Bucky’s wrists and they struggle. Steve uses his legs to try and push Bucky off. His best friend plays dirty though, and uses his free hand to tickle Steve’s side. The shriek that leaves his mouth is girlish and Steve flushes as he starts giggling. He lets go of the one wrist to grab for the other one. But Bucky is faster and grabs both his wrists to pin them down. 

“Try me again, Rodgers.” Bucky threatens, a smile on his face. Steve bites his lip, considering his options, considering his position. He wants to push Bucky just a little bit more. He acts as if he’s given up, relaxing his muscles, letting the tension in his hands go.   
“Alright, alright. You win…” Steve looks up, into Bucky’s eyes, “James.” Bucky puts both of Steve’s wrists in one of his hands, and uses his free hand to tickle the omega. Said omega is currently oozing happy scent, when Steve gets happier his scent gets stronger, and Bucky fucking loves it. His bedroom fills with what can only be described as the smell of joy. He and Steve both have smiles on their faces. Well, Steve’s facial expression could be described as distressed, or perhaps in pain, but his peals of laughter counter the latter option. He tosses and turns as best he can trying to get rid of Bucky’s fingers as they run up and down his ribs, digging in ever so slightly. Yet, Bucky doesn’t relent, enjoying this position a little too much. 

“Bucky! Please!” Steve shrieks, unable to focus on anything except the feeling of Bucky’s fingers running up and down his side, “Bucky!” The brunet does stop tickling, but keeps his wrists pinned. Steve catches his breath and looks up into Bucky’s eyes. They’re a lot closer than normal, and Steve’s mouth drops open slightly. Bucky puts on a fierce expression, glaring down at Steve. His piercing gaze freezes the blond, making him unsure of what to do, what to say, what to focus on. So much beauty in one place gives his eyes too much to look at. He struggles to pick one thing. 

“Are you done, Rodgers? Ready to take another ‘L’?” Bucky’s expression doesn’t change and Steve has to look away. It’s too intense. “You’ve gotta stop starting fights you know you can’t win.” Bucky smirks, finally letting up, moving to sit beside Steve. “I don’t like beating you.” He shrugs, putting on a sad face. Steve laughs, slapping Bucky’s leg. Bucky dissolves into laughter, pushing Steve lightly. A little banter ensues, Steve mocking Bucky’s fake sorrow, and Bucky making more jokes.

Dinner happens, and Steve realizes how much he’s missed Bucky’s family. His sister is funnier than any middle schooler that he’s met, and his parents are so caring. He could see him and Bucky together at the Barnes’ house for Christmas in the future, with their two dogs and three kids. Steve needs it so badly for a moment that it makes him breathless. He turns to look at Bucky who is laughing at a joke Winifred made and his breath is stolen farther from him. He feels almost as if he’s going to have to get his inhaler, but Rebecca grabs his attention, calling his name, and his gaze is torn from Bucky. He can breathe again when his best friend isn’t in his sight, but his proximity to Bucky is making him breathe in his scent, which isn’t helping him. He forces himself to focus on Rebecca and her tale about her most recent soccer game. She tells him of the winning goal she kicked and he congratulates her. 

Bucky grabs Steve’s attention again by telling him his own version of the victory. He includes a lot more sound effects and hand motions that Rebecca didn’t. The people at the table laugh as Bucky retells the story in such a dramatic fashion that it might as well have been a movie. Steve stares with rapt attention at his best friend. Rebecca tries to interject, trying to correct Bucky, trying to keep the story factual, but at the point where Bucky includes rocket cleats she stops trying. Steve laughs along with them, finding genuine humor in the story, but also entranced by Bucky. 

With his retelling of the story over and the rest of the family clearing their plates Bucky feels no shame with returning Steve’s stare. He grins goofily at his best friend, causing a soft giggle to erupt from Steve. There is a silent moment where things start to fade away. The soft clinking of dishes being put in the dishwasher, the chatter of his family, the room around them. The whole world is just him and Steve. A soft tingle runs down from the top of Bucky’s head, flowing all the way to the base of his spine, curling around each muscle, tendon, and bone. Bucky feels it to his very core. He is filled with the urge to reach out and touch his best friend, to put his hand on Steve’s chest, over his heart. 

Steve breaks the contact, eyes lowering in submission. He shivers as his skin prickles. He clears his throat, picking his plate up and moving towards the kitchen. That was weird as hell. Something happened… he’s not sure what though. He and Bucky make their way back upstairs, without a mention of their little moment in the dining room. Winifred watches them go. She turns to her husband, a smile on their face. 

“It happened, George. I saw it. I told you he’d be the one, eventually.” Winifred wraps her arms around her husband, smiling widely. She’s always known Bucky would find the perfect mate. He didn’t have to look as hard as others. 

“You think they’re soul bonded?” George asks, stroking his wife’s hair. She’s always been so optimistic. He kisses the top of her head and she leans back, nodding. 

“You should’ve seen them locked in each others gaze. I can guarantee that they’re soul bonded, and they’re going to be mated before much longer. Our boy is grown, he’s found his mate. Steven is finally old enough, finally healthy enough for him.” 

“I’m just glad it’s Steve. He’s such a nice boy.” 

Said boy flops onto his best friend’s bed, sighing heavily. He rolls to one side of the bed, grabbing the duvet, pulling it with him. He’s in a duvet roll when he stops moving. Bucky laughs when he sees Steve looking like a human/duvet roll of sushi. He pokes Steve, telling him not to hog the comforter. Steve responds with a weak attempt at arguing for his sole use of the blanket, but Bucky doesn’t relent. Eventually their conversations dissolves into a discussion about everything from donuts to driving. Eventually Bucky unrolls Sushi Steve, despite his protests, and their conversation begins to dampen. Steve is half asleep, and Bucky is getting pretty tired. Steve’s responses are getting shorter and shorter by the minute. 

“G’night, Stevie.” Bucky says softly, turning onto his side, away from the blond. 

“Nigh’ Buck’,” comes the soft response, followed by, “love you…” Bucky’s eyes fly open. He and Steve have proclaimed friendly love before, being best friends since forever, but it’s never been the way Bucky wants it. 

“No, you don’t.” Bucky doesn’t mean to say it aloud, but it happens, and he can’t take it back. He just hopes that Steve is already asleep. He hopes that his best friend didn’t hear his response. When he hears a sigh he knows he has no such luck. 

“Buck’, you don’t get it.” Steve sounds only slightly more awake now, “I do. I jus’ haven’t told ya.” Steve sounds tired, and not the physical kind, there is a weariness to his voice. Bucky still doesn’t believe him. This can’t be true. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying, go to sleep.” Bucky turns onto his back, wanting to look at Steve, but not daring to. He can’t look over if this is a joke. He can’t reveal his own emotions if Steve is just half asleep and talking shit. 

“Buck…” Steve sits up, groaning slightly. He didn’t realize that this would be the way he’d tell Bucky, he’d always imagined being the one to say, ‘I love you too,’ not the first one, but he just said it. He isn’t sure what came over him, he was too tired to have a filter maybe. “I love you. I always have. You’re the one for me. You’re it. I love you with all my heart. Your hair, your humor, your honesty. I know this might not… I might have just ruined everything, but I can’t go on like this.” 

“If you’re bullshitting me, Rodgers, I’ll beat you to a pulp.” Bucky says weakly, his voice cracking. His Steve, his omega… 

“I-I’m tellin’ the truth, Buck.” 

Bucky sits up, turning to Steve, he can make out the outline of his head in the dark, “Stevie… You- I- You love me?” He gets a shaky nod in response. “Fuck.” Bucky wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him down to the bed. He can’t fucking believe it. He buries his face in Steve’s neck like he’s been dying to do for years. The scent is gloriously Steve. “I love you so much, Stevie. Fuck. Fuck. Love you…” 

Steve feels like he’s going to have heart attack, he slowly wraps his arms around Bucky. This feels too good to be true. Awkward shuffling ensues, but Bucky manages to put his forehead on Steve’s, grinning like a fool.

“I love you, Steven Michael Rodgers.” Bucky leans in ever so slightly. 

As Steve begins to say, “That’s not my middle-“ Bucky kisses him, pulling him closer, and closer, until he feels like nothing exists in his world but Bucky. Steve leans into the kiss, forgetting to breathe at one point, having to pull back to gasp for air. 

“Steve.” 

“Bucky.” 

“Mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me on tumblr @ myephemeral-love


	10. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, wow, here we are, at the end, wow
> 
> YAY
> 
> the title and chapter titles come from Sleep by Timothy Heller

“Whoo!” Bucky stamps his feet, cheering. The people around the table join in, except a blonde. Bucky smirks, feeling an electricity in his veins, fueled by the neon lights and beer. He can smell the excitement in the air, he can feel it. It’s palpable in the bar, and Bucky lives for it. He turns to look at his mate. Steve’s blithe attitude doesn’t dampen Bucky’s raucous actions. 

“Buddy, you’re a boy, make a big noise!” As people catch on, they start singing along, and Bucky feels the excitement grow thicker. “Playing in the street, gonna be a big man some day! Got mud on your face! Ya big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place!” 

It is a simultaneous cheer/singing of the song as it hits the chorus, “We will, we will rock you! We will, we will rock you!” Bucky swings hims arms, notifying his makeshift choir that they’re done and he grins. Everyone’s eyes are on him, and he revels in the power. He slaps his hands on the table, causing a cheer to ripple around him. 

“Well, I must say...” he starts, continuing to let his eyes drift over his team. They begin chanting at him, yelling for a speech. Bucky looks over to Steve, glad to finally see a genuine smile on his face. He nods, encouraging Bucky to make the speech. “I’m lucky to be a part of the best intramural soccer team on campus!” More cheers erupt and for a moment Bucky almost feels bad for the rest of the bar attendants. Then he looks at Steve, and the genuine smile, and he doesn’t care. 

“We’re lucky to have the best captain!” Bucky isn’t sure who said it, but his heart surges. He’s spent an entire semester with these guys, practicing everyday, working a little more passionately than most intramural teams. Except their biggest rival, a senior team, the reigning champions. 

“Aw, shut up. Guys, I’m so proud of us. We beat the seniors. The reigning, well the previously reigning champions! Now that’s us!” Bucky raises his beer glass, grinning at his teammates, beaming at Steve. “To us!”

Eventually Bucky and Steve stumble back to their dorm, a little more than tipsy. Well, it’s actually Bucky’s dorm, but he has one by himself so Steve basically lives there. The dorm feels almost like a home. Steve has never felt more complete. Freshman year they were on opposite sides of the campus, and Steve felt further from Bucky that he did at home. Sophomore year they were two buildings apart, but Steve still felt the distance, wishing for a bigger bed that would hold him and his boyfriend. Thank the Lord that this year they are capable of staying together. He’s glad that Bucky’s grades made him capable of having his own room. All those extra class hours, and study time that Bucky was alone helped him. And yeah the degree that will result from that stuff is great, but being able to fall asleep next to him every night is more than enough for Steve right now. 

They collapse onto Bucky’s bed, twin expressions of contentment on their faces. Bucky took fewer classes this year, having loaded up his schedule last year, which made time for soccer. He’d gotten the idea for a team when one of his buddies suggested, while they were drunk, that they do something sporty. And Bucky is never one to say no to a crazy scheme. 

Now, Steve is laying beside his boyfriend after weeks upon weeks of standing in the cold, on the sidelines, cheering him and his teammates on. And damn it all if he’s not proud. Bucky is so amazing, and Steve knows that if he were more sober he could think more eloquently about this, but for now his eyes keep focusing on the curve of Bucky’s bottom lip, and the soft rising and falling of Bucky’s chest. Steve thinks that his boyfriend has fallen asleep, but suddenly he turns, light in his eyes, smiling. 

“You… are the bes’ thing tha’s ever happened to me, Ste’.” Bucky whispers, ungracefully putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve snorts, leaning forward to kiss Bucky. The brunet holds him back, eyes searching for something Steve can’t name. 

“Buck’, baby, let’s go to sleep. It’s bedtime.” Steve whispers back, putting his hand on Bucky’s face. His boyfriend, his mate, grunts at his, turning onto his back again. Steve scoots closer, wrapping himself around Bucky, letting his eyes fall shut. The sound of the heater blowing gently and Bucky’s soft breathing filled his ears. Steve was content to falling asleep like this, but apparently Bucky was not. 

“Steve… marry me.” Bucky’s voice is so soft, that Steve isn’t sure he heard him. He’s drunk so surely he can’t be serious. Steve doesn’t respond, just letting himself drift off to sleep.

His sleep is interrupted by the bed jerking. Steve groans, pulling the blanket tight and closer, trying to stay in the sweet smelling cave of heat that is created by the duvet. He cracks an eye open, seeing Bucky grinning at him. Steve sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. He wants to sleep more, and Bucky surely got up hours ago, even despite his drinking last night. 

“Stevie, I made waffles!” Bucky says softly, hoping to pull his boyfriend from bed. Steve opens one eye again, eyeing Bucky warily. 

“Waffles?” he croaks, swallowing thickly. Bucky cooking? This can’t be good. Bucky nods happily, getting off the bed and bounding out of the room. Steve turns onto his back and sighs. He should get up. Imagining Bucky in their teeny kitchen making breakfast for him eventually pulls him from his warm paradise. When he enters the general living area where Bucky’s desk, couch, and dining table are Bucky hugs him, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Steve groans and laughs, trying to push away. 

Bucky doesn’t let him, “Stevie, you never answered my question last night.” He looks into Steve’s eyes, his expression serious. Steve furrows his eyebrows, trying to remember when Bucky inquired anything of him.

“Bucky, what did you-“ It dawns on him suddenly, all at once the memory of Bucky asking him to marry him slaps him in the face. Steve’s jaw drops. He’s being serious. “Well, I’m obviously yours Buck’, if you wanna get married, can we wait until we have money to pay for things?”

“Baby,” Bucky starts, pulling away from Steve, as he talks he serves two plates of waffles, “I don’t need anything. I don’t need a fancy wedding, or expensive gifts. If I have you then… I have everything I need.” 

“Shut up.” 

“No, I’m serious,” Bucky sets the plates down on the tiny dining table, “you are my everything Steve. I will only want you for the rest of my life. A big fancy wedding is only necessary if that’s what you want. For me, you’re enough.” 

Steve’s slack jawed expression is one Bucky has seen before. He remembers that same expression on his face when Bucky reciprocated his feelings. Eventually they hack out details, and Steve demands a real proposal with a ring. Bucky barters that they don’t tell anyone until Christmas, wanting to enjoy this alone. Wanting to be just Steve and Bucky and Bucky and Steve for a little while longer. Steve couldn’t argue with that.

-

Steve gasps wildly and Bucky’s heart surges. He sure hopes this was the right thing to do. The soft little barks coming from the box make everyone go quiet. Steve pulls the puppy out, sniffling happily. He holds it to his chest, looking to Bucky. 

“You got me a puppy?!” Steve bites his lip as Bucky nods. The little golden retriever barks at Steve again and the blond sets him down on his lap. The puppy sniffs for a few moments before clumsily laying down. 

Bucky scoots forward to the edge of his seat, “Do you like him?” Steve nods wildly, petting the puppy. 

“Who’s going to take care of him?” Steve asks, looking up again, “We still have a year and a half of college! He’s so cute but-“ 

“We will, darling,” Winifred says, and Steve’s worries are brushed away. Sarah rubs his back as Winifred talks, “Bucky asked about this months ago. He made sure we were okay with taking care of a puppy.” Steve sniffles. He launches off the couch and tackles Bucky backwards onto the couch. The room is cozy, a fire crackling, the joy of family and Christmas warming his heart. Steve kisses Bucky’s cheek and gets close to his ear.

“I’m telling them,” Steve sits up, pulling Bucky with him, “Bucky and I have something to tell you!” Rebecca looks up from her cell phone, a devious smirk on her face, Bucky immediately widens his eyes. 

“Lemme guess. Steve’s pregnant?” She blows a bubble with her gum, and Bucky wants to be proud of her for an incredibly well timed zinger, but he’s distracted by his parents. 

“Rebecca!” his mom scolds, she turns back to Steve and Bucky, urging Steve to go on. Bucky’s guts are folding in on themselves, tying into knots, and suffocating the previously gentle butterflies. He grabs Steve’s hand. Bucky knows Steve has been dying to do this since they got here.

“We’re engaged!” 

The rest of the night is filled with celebrations. The holiday, the engagement, family… Steve feels so content that he looses focus on dialogue a few times, just seeing his mom, his fiancé, his future family all together… happy. He can’t help it, everything is just as he imagined that night when he and Bucky admitted their feelings. Sure, he doesn’t have kids, and only one dog, but here he is with the man he loves and his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to LightingStriking for being so kind through all this
> 
> I’m on twitter now: @sobermeup

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on tumblr @ myephemeral-love


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